


where do we go from here

by littlexdove (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 12:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17622542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/littlexdove
Summary: Hermione is thirteen and suddenly has to deal with a loss that not only rips out the very foundation of who she is, but also makes it so she walks a precociously thin line to destroying the majority of the Wizarding world whilst on top of that she has to deal with a mass murderer on the loose coming after her best friend.





	where do we go from here

Hermione woke up and felt as if her head had been hit with a sledgehammer repeatedly. Looking around she realised that the surrounding area around her was… chaotic. It was as if a hurricane had come through and had only deigned destruction important enough to leave after it’s wake. Hermione clamped her teeth down on her lip as it trembled, not ready to cry; afraid that if she did, she’d never stop. Or if she did cry, then she’d scream and it would all happen again. She sniffed, and wrapped her hands around her stomach, walking through the remains of the house. Ron had gotten his brother to make her house unplottable, so nobody who followed Voldemort would be able to find her, to which his brother had enthusiastically agreed (Ron had later said he’d wanted to try the spell but their mother wouldn’t let him), yet now, seeing how no one would know, seeing how no one would be able to find her… she grabbed a spare piece of paper that was in the kitchen, ripped off the note on the top bit, and hurriedly wrote to Ron.

 ** **‘**** Dear Ron,

I was wondering if it were possible for me to spend the remaining part of the holiday at your house, seeing as Harry will be coming soon and you may need some healing spells. Mother and father have said that it’s fine as long as I eat relatively healthy food (actually that was my mother, father said as long as the two didn’t find out it was fine…) and say that they will send some money over for the trouble of having me there.

Reply back if I can, if not then it’s perfectly understandable’

She hesitated on whether she should put ‘love Hermione’ seeing as her and Ron weren’t exactly close; mostly holding back arguments for Harry’s sake. ‘love Hermione’ implied they were close and she knew his brothers, or at least two of his brothers, would have a fun time teasing him to Hell and back if they saw it. No. Better safe than sorry, she thought, amused at the thought of Fred and George Weasley.

‘Sincerely,

Hermione’

There, that’d do it. Not too formal, and shows that they’re friends, but not liable to get him teased mercilessly. She hoped. She didn’t need Ron pissed off at her after all of this. She let her owl, Athens, take the letter, and a moment later she was soaring in the sky, soon becoming unnoticeable. She sat down and finally, finally let herself cry, holding a hand over her mouth so she didn’t scream. She was alone. Her parents weren’t going to see her grow or graduate and all because of some god damn asshole that her mother had put in prison. They were gone. She let out a wail, not seeing Bill apparate in the room and looking shocked. She gasped, and clutched her stomach, and screamed as loud as she could, needing the pain to stop coursing through her body. Screaming made it easier. It was as if the pain had stopped flowing around her body and had floated up and outside of her the longer she screamed; and she sobbed, screaming louder, until she stopped, gasping, and crying.

 

“Hermione,” it was a soft voice, but nevertheless, she felt herself turn around and hold her wand out before she felt her mind catch up to the scene. It was Bill. It was Bill. He wasn’t going to hurt her. Bill wouldn’t hurt her. She closed her eyes, and bit her lip roughly as it trembled, and shoved her wand into her pocket. Bill sighed, not at her, but at the situation she had been placed in. He walked over to her and hugged her softly. He rubbed her back as her body shaked, silently crying into his shirt, and internally he swore. Witches and wizards often came into gifts at the inheritance age, which was the same age as becoming an adult which was seventeen, which made it so no one had to be informed of what anyone became. Hermione however seemed to be different, because she wasn’t seventeen: she was thirteen. And from the looks of the destruction, he had a pretty good hunch on what kind of creature inheritance she came into.

If he was right, and for once, he really, truly, hoped he wasn’t (although deep down he knew he was), then the young teens life was about to get twice as complicated. Not only would she have to navigate how to grieve without bringing down the house she was stationed in, she’d have to navigate both school and Wizarding politics. Merlin. “Hermione,” he began gently, knowing that no matter how he told her, it would be hard for her to hear. She looked at him, and seemed to sense something was about to happen, as if… _fuck _.__  He _was_ right. “we have to tell the ministry,” she shook her head, and he grimaced, knowing why she felt like that, “it’s the law Hermione, anybody who comes into their creature inheritance before seventeen has to” he said gently and she trembled, and stepped back, her mouth beginning to open, before she clamped her hand over it; effectively shutting the noise out, thus not destroying anything around her.

And hurting herself. She fell to her knees, and Tonk’s, who had come along out of curiosity for the young witch who had made such an impression on the family, knelt down next to her, wrapping her up in her arms. Hermione collapsed, sobbing, and Tonk’s, looked up, closing her eyes, and swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing that she couldn’t loose control. Not here, where Hermione needed someone, someone who knew how it felt. She rubbed her back, and rested her head on top of Hermione’s and gave Bill a look to indicate she’d take over, and he nodded, trusting her.

Hermione’s cries got louder, and Tonk’s shook, trying to hold back the pain she needed to let out at the sight of the young witch who was grieving. She couldn’t do what her mother did and give the witch a piece of jewelry that would dampen them to the point of having some control over them. The room around them shook, the walls not being able to hold much more of the power, and she grasped onto the song she had written and sang it to her, hoping it would distract her. Sure the lyrics weren’t happy, but it would soothe her with the tone hopefully.  
“Like waking up from a fantasy  
In all that's left is you and me  
We're invincible in a violet sea  
Dare to move  
Dare to believe

Where do we go from here  
Where do we go from here  
How do we find our wings  
How do you breathe without dreams  
Where do we go from here  
From here, from here

In the changing wind, it echoes deep  
Wearing thin the heart beneath  
There's no place to call our own  
Like a drifting haze we roam

Where do we go from here  
Where do we go from here  
How do we find our wings  
How do you breathe without dreams  
Where do we go from here  
From here  
From here  
From here  
From here” once she was finished Hermione sniffed, however she had stopped screaming, and now just looked down, seemingly ashamed. Yeah, she knew that one.  
“I’m sorry,” the young witch whispered, and Tonk’s shook her head, and gave the witch what she hoped would be classed as a comforting smile.  
“no need to worry, honey, o have similar gifts, and it all starts out this way. Now, I know what Bill said shocked you, so why don’t you come with me to my mother’s house, hey? It’s built for people like us, so it won’t be destroyed as easy.” Hermione looked torn, but seemingly decided that the idea of a less destructible house was the best in the long run, as she nodded, getting up, Tonk’s mimicking her actions.

“can I bring some of my belongings?” she whispered, and Tonk’s nodded, understanding the desire to be close to the person ( _or, in worst case scenario_ , Tonk’s thought, _people_ ) all too well.  
”sure honey, take my bag, get some jewelry as well, it may help to make you feel a little more centered,” especially if her mother could do the spell on a piece of jewelry. And, knowing the kind of ritual it involved, it would be twice as strong if it was something handed down, however she decided to not say this, and watched as Hermione walked up the stairs, stepping round the holes in them, carefully, and sighed once she was out of hearing.

 _This was going to be interesting_ , she thought, as she sent a patronus to her mother. They were the only ones who were able to help Hermione not kill everybody she helped dear, she just prayed to Merlin that they did it in time. Because their was one thing she was sure of, she thought to herself,

The majority of the Wizarding world would be screwed if they hadn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> alright i hope this was okay, if it was, please leave a comment and tell me if you like it or not, seeing as this is my first story that i've ever published (online and in general) JK Rowling owns Harry Potter unfortunately (otherwise Sirius, Fred, and Remus would have stayed alive and Wolfstar would have been canon...)


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